I don't even like fish [Sol/Liana]

Maybe in the future he might become a teacher, because what he felt at her success was a foreign feeling to him. Like a warmth spread through his body and seemed to force his lips into a huge smile, an immense satisfaction in his own instructions and her perseverance which could only be pride. He wondered if his father once felt this when teaching him something as mundane as fishing.

“You did it!”

He’d exclaim lifting a closed fist to bump against her shoulder approvingly. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she scrambled to catch her pole, turning his attention back to the water. “For the most part, you want to move the line a bit sometimes by reeling it in. Make it seem alive, and tantalizing for whatever fish swims by.” He’d comment before placing his fist within one of his hands, rubbing his knuckles as if in thought.

“The important part now, is making sure to know what’s a bite and what’s not. Sometimes stuff brushes against the lure, or it gets caught on a rock. If you feel a bite, pull up sharply on the rod and start reeling it in. That’ll sink the hook in.” He’d explain as he looked back to his own pole, which was simply secured snuggly with no real movement.

“You did good, Liana. Proud of you.”

One might have mistaken the sudden quietness that overtook Liana as something ill, but for Solhammond it was a subtle realization. Not from himself, but from her. In that moment of serenity would be something that was hard found in their world. They could relax here and be at peace without fear of something, without worry of what might come next. The simplicity of it all was a gift greater than anything material.

So he leaned forward in his elbows resting on his knees, as a dumb smile seemed to rest on his lips. Gray irises seemingly watching the water with little intensity to them. He couldn’t recall every really doing this with someone outside of his Pa’, and that was… so very long ago. How these things stuck with him and how he neglected them left mixed feelings in his soul, as that small smile turned to a small smirk.

“Has a way of putting things into perspective.” He’d comment softly without looking at her. He didn’t need to see her face to know she’d understand. “Things we take for granted. Funny how all that works out, right?”

He hadn’t forgotten he suggested this to tell her his unique situation, but they’d get to that eventually. Right now, he was just enjoying the moment. The only sounds between the two of them are merely nature rubbing shoulders with the two wayward souls.

He says something, but it isn’t to her. It’s under his breath, barely above a whisper. No doubt her supernatural senses could pick it up: ‘Thanks, da’.’

His head dips down as she speaks to him about him reminding her of this moment. He let outs a small chuckle at that, wondering if she’s poking fun at him. Not that he minded that, or really anything that was happening currently. He hadn’t intended for things to be this casual on this trip, but here they were. Life had a funny way of making things come out.

His head turned when she whispered, perhaps if he was more focused on not reacting he wouldn’t have made it so clear he heard. But he did. And although he didn’t know what those words meant exactly, he could wager a guess. As she turned away from him his eyes caught the reddening of her face, his mouth opening to reply. Instead of words coming out, it merely hung for a second before he closed it tightly.

“I did.”

It takes a moment after he says that, before a callous hand comes to rest on her shoulder. His hands are large, surprisingly so. They have a firm grasp, hands not just that of a fighter but a workman. He squeezes her shoulder lightly, with comfort.

“I believe in you.”

He could’ve said he didn’t hear it, but that would be a lie. And he didn’t like lying to people anymore. He could’ve said he knew she would accomplish that. But that wasn’t what he felt like saying. He wanted to say he believed in her. Sometimes that's all a person needs to hear when undertaking a hard path. Sometimes it’s just nice to have support, even if you never really needed it. Cause he doubts someone as strong as her, really needs it, ya’ know?

He’s been smiling a lot today, and if she turned to look at him, he still had one.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He takes his hand off her shoulder when she speaks, and he is silent. It was not his place to talk when she was doing so and he understood that. His hand came to rest in his lap, callous hands gripping one another softly as he stared out into the calm water. When she acknowledged him and began to explain the personal details of her story with Retsu he absorbed it.

It was not often people shared these stories between one another, and if it was not clear Solhammond approached things in his own way. As she finished he allowed the air to settle between them, the smile on his lips had disappeared as if to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. But despite that he felt some level of kinship with her due to what she said, as his mind drifted to long seen brothers.

“I know people in my situation are supposed to…” His voice is soft, trailing off as if searching for the right words. “... say something comforting.” He’d chuckle lightly as if amused by his lack of profoundness, far too simple to come up with the right words. “But, ya’ know, I get it.”

He understood how she felt, well, maybe not exactly. Maybe that might just piss her off. He claimed to understand the pain that she alone felt. But he’d be a liar if he didn’t say how he felt about the situation. He now draws a shaky breath not too dissimilar to when she did.

“I have two brothers, ya’ know? Joshua and Michael. Joshua… it was always the golden boy. Stupid good looking, strong, looked just like da’.” He’d mutter his voice almost begrudgingly, before a humor and amusement slipped into it. “He joined up with the army, won medals. Was a hero by all means of the word. I… I was jealous. Everything he did was, was just, amazing. How do you compare to someone like that?”

It seemed childish if not pedantic. The musings of a younger brother living in what felt like the shadow of his brother. But there was something else to his words, a deep profound regret that clung to his words. His eyes staring out into the calm water did very little to calm the storm inside of him.

“He never came home from the war. They told us he was missing in action, likely dead. In some foreign land, fighting demons. Someone that strong just doesn’t… he just doesn’t disappear. I know he isn’t dead, I don’t believe it. I refuse to.”

His voice raises in power or perhaps anger. Hands gripping each other until his knuckles turn white, trying as he might be unable to escape the anger within him. At himself, at his weakness, at his old self.

“I hate the old me. I hate the old me, because he would’ve accepted his brother's death. He would have mourned him, and done nothing. But I know the man I am supposed to be, and I know that one day I’ll find Joshua. ”

His hands release each other as he decompresses, a long breath leaving his mouth as if letting go of the anger. If only for now. He turns his head to her, and he laughs with his eyes closed lightly.

“I haven’t told that to anyone, thanks, Liana.”

His laughs subsidize as he feels a hand on his shoulder, his eyes opening slowly to see her. The sincere smile on her features what spoke more truthfully than anything else he had seen from her, backgrounded by the serene beauty of nature behind her. The words that followed mimic’d his own that he spoke to her, leaving him speechless for a moment. It was a simple thing but for some reason it touched him deeply. His face feeling tense if not a bit warm as he began to open his mouth to speak.

Before suddenly it was cut short by his fishing line pulling tightly, his head snapping to it. “We got a bite!” He’d shout as he quickly began to move towards his line, the boat swaying lightly as he did so. Taking the rod in his hands, Liana would see him pull up on the line causing it to flex on whatever caught it. “Must be a healthy one!” He’d exclaim with a grin as he began to dance of reeling in a fish.

While he was certainly strong enough to literally fling this fish out the water, he didn’t want to break his rod. Plus there was a grace that came with battling a fish. The occasional reeling of the line, and pulling of the rod to one side or another. There was joy in his eyes, his movements, his laughter which seemed engrossed as he began to work the fish…